While most of these heroic officers spend the drive time to the warehouse writing last-minute emails to their family or gazing at photos of their loved ones, Good ol' Shoot-em-Up Texas Magee gets his automatic handgun ready to blow away hisself some heroine cartellers. Scum bags. If this gets violent, we know where to lay the blame.
I hope no one gets hurt. I really do. Yesterday, I was in the bathroom and I fainted. I've been sick, and I was lightheaded, and I passed out from a painful cramp. Mrs. Wanders tried to catch me and kept me from crashing headfirst onto the tile. Instead, I landed on the bathroom scale and cut up my head a bit. Judging from where the needle on the scale is now permanently stuck, my head weighs 40 pounds. Mrs. Wanders woke me and sat me up against the wall. She was trying to talk to me, but I couldn't say anything... I was just zoned. I can remember wanting to tell her something, but I couldn't really say or do anything... finally, I squeaked out something like "I love you..." If I had died at that moment, it would have been very dramatic. But fortunately, I lived.
I hope that when Scott is lying in his own gore and squeaks out, "I love you..." he lives too. In my experience, it is better to forget about the drama, and live instead.
Today's Full Strip